


Beverly Something

by lamuella



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamuella/pseuds/lamuella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month in the life of Shulman & Associates' sketchiest employee.  She's not always wise, she's not always good with names, she's not always Beverly, but she's always up to something...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beverly Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlenutjob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlenutjob/gifts).



_ Monday June 1st _

If my parole officer reads this I definitely did NOT just spend the night in jail for punching a police horse.

That's my New York parole officer. If my Tennessee parole officer reads this I'm still living with my cousin in Pigeon Forge and staying out of trouble.

If my Nevada parole officer reads this then you have the wrong person. I've never used the name Claudette Amaretto, and I've never BEEN to the MGM grand, let alone dealt blackjack there.

That horse had it coming, anyway.

 

_Tuesday June 2nd_

This morning Morgan bet me five dollars he could gargle the theme to Power Rangers while doing a handstand.

Afterwards, while Tamara was treating his head wound, I lifted his wallet and put the Abe Lincoln back. He needs it more than me. Besides, I felt bad about switching his water glass for everclear.

What's a Power Ranger?

 

_Wednesday June 3rd_

I hadn't seen the short doctor in a few days so I asked the pregnant doctor if he had died. I didn't want to miss out on a good funeral buffet. She looked at me funny, said he was fine, and ran off to the bathroom.

I call her the pregnant doctor because Tamara made me promise to stop calling her the brown doctor. I think she's pregnant anyway. I try to keep out of other people's business. She upchucked in a waste basket last week and it sure looked like second trimester vomit.

I hope the short doctor hasn't died. It's hard enough telling the difference between the doctors without changing one out.

 

_Thursday June 4th_

Another parking ticket. Sooner or later these idiots are going to figure out that "Beverley" is a limited liability company that rents all my assets and has no holdings of its own. A company can't drive a car, and ever since I declared Manhattan to be a vessel any action taken against me has to be filed in admiralty court.

I wish I were still registered with the New York bar. It's been a long time since I made an assistant DA cry in front of his boss.

 

_Friday June 5th_

Went to the bodega to get lunch. The guy behind the counter gives me free chicharones every time I go in because he owes me a favour from my time as a bookkeeper. Couldn't remember what sandwich Betsy wanted so I gave her a call. Turns out she hasn't worked for the practice in a year! Why does nobody tell me these things?

Out tonight with you-know-who. Not expecting trouble.

 

_Saturday June 6th_

Woke up in a stable. Again. Damn horses. I won't say what happened last night but my debt to Rudy Giulliani is officially cleared.

Text from Morgan's cousin Lou. Nice boy but always uses terms I don't understand. What's a “nude selfie”?

 

_Sunday June 7th_

They need to sell Bombay Sapphire in bigger bottles. How am I supposed to organize a retrospective on the 48th anniversary of Dorothy Parker's death with only a litre of gin on hand?

Dear old Dotty. Got riotously drunk with her on my first trip to New York, when I was fifteen and she was seventy. She stole my heart. I stole her cigarette lighter and forty dollars. Good times.

 

_Monday June 8th_

The thin doctor (he used to be the fat doctor, I think he's Welsh?) has started playing backgammon and spent his lunch break talking about how good he was. I acted like I wasn't interested. If you want to reel in a fish like this you've got to let him come to you. Act too eager and he'll figure out you're a shark long before you're playing for pinks.

 

_Tuesday June 9th_

Some guy came into the clinic today asking for me. He had non-iron pants with dress Oxfords and a sport-coat, which made him either a Shamus or a gumshoe. Rats, this means I'll have to fake my own death again. I'll get my gear out of storage tomorrow and make sure the escape kit is still where I left it. Maybe I'll be a Lillian next.

 

_Wednesday June 10th._

Turns out the guy asking for me was answering my Fetlife ad. I must have updated it with details of my detective fetish but I don't recall a thing. How drunk was I on Sunday?

Considered torching the apartment and moving to Winnipeg anyway, shame to let a good passport go to waste. Decided against it, Tamara said her cousin Sheena was coming by to do nails tomorrow and I don't want to miss that.

 

_Thursday June 11th._

Sheena's a good sort. Funny to run into her in New York after getting to know her in Paris. I never did ask how she got the job as ring girl at an underground duelling club. We caught up for a while and she swore me to secrecy once more.

Just heard about Dusty Rhodes passing away. Hell of a guy. Hell of a kisser. Hope his kids don't come after me for the $500 I owed him.

 

_Friday June 12th_

The pregnant doctor was asking if anyone had see her green shawl today. Says she lost it about a week ago.

Guess I'll have to re-dye it before I can wear it into the office.

Smiled at a regular when she came into the office today. She looked scared and went and sat around the corner. Always keep them guessing.

 

_Saturday June 13th_

Road trip this weekend. If my NY parole officer is reading this I'm sure I'll have a great time visiting my niece in High Plains. I certainly will NOT be spending the weekend clearing out whales at a Pai-Gow parlor just off Armour Square in Chicago.

 

_Sunday June 14th_

Woke up on a couch in a La Raza Nation house on the corner of 76th and Ashland. Got the heck out as fast as I could, didn't want them to find out I was patched to the Latin Kings.

Hitched back to New York. No idea where I left the car. That's okay, it was a rental under a third string ID.

 

_Monday June 15th_

Monthly meeting with the Deslauriers this morning. Brendan's still asking questions about the short doctor but he keeps getting his name wrong and calling him "Danny". I think Brendan's a little obsessed.

I gave Duncan his novel manuscript back with notes. Overall it's pretty good, but magic realism is so early nineties. I still have a contact with Simon and Schuster, so I'll see if I can get it placed on the right desk at the right time.

Debrief afterwards with the bald doctor. He slips me a Benjamin to feed the Deslauriers a pack of lies about what's going on in the practice. Not that I'd have told them anything useful anyway. Snitches get stitches.

 

_Tuesday June 16th_

My boy took me out to dinner. He still hasn't told me what he's doing for a living, he just says it's “sensitive” and it's for “a government”.

The evening was a blast. We ate each course at a different restaurant. Each time he chose a spot where he could see the front door and the fire exit and insisted the waiter bring him a steak knife, even when we were having soup.

Either my boy is into some serious stuff, which is exciting, or he's getting world class at bullshitting me, which is even better.

 

_Wednesday June 17th_

You ever want to put an exciting story into motion, even if you won't get to read the final chapters of it?

Steal two guys' wallets while walking through Times Square, then return Guy A's wallet to Guy B's pocket and vice versa. Congratulations, you just entwined the fates of two strangers.

It's how I like to spend my lunchtimes, anyway.

 

_Thursday June 18th_

The uniform guy was dropping off dry-cleaned scrubs this morning. Morgan pushed the mobile rack too fast and it fell over, and the guy spent the next five minutes calling Morgan a clumsy dumbass.

I followed him to his truck and told him exactly what would happen if he sassed one of my boys again. He went white as a sheet and sped off. We won't get any trouble from him again. Morgan's a clumsy dumbass but he's my clumsy dumbass.

 

_Friday June 19th_

Turned on NPR this morning and there was a story about a missing girl from Rainbow City. Haven't thought about that place in years. Funny, you grow up in a town, get the hell out of there as soon as you can, drift around for decades, and then fifty years later find it's still got a claw in you.

I wonder if the little girl was the grandbaby or great-grandbaby of anyone I grew up with.

I wonder if they'll find her.

Was going to go drinking tonight, but for once I think I need to be sober.

 

_Saturday June 20th_

Covering a weekend shift. Tamara noticed I was down so she took me cheater-watching at lunch. She's really good, she can spot a guy who is stepping out on his old lady in three seconds at a hundred paces. I showed her how you can tell to within ten dollars how much cash someone has on them by how their wallet sits in their pants. It's all about how often they touch that pocket.

Feeling a bit better this evening so I went paintballing. Got thrown out after 45 minutes for shooting the same guy in the nuts three times. Worth every penny.

 

_Sunday June 21st_

Spent the day doing punch-up work on some Lou's spec script. It was a mess. He'd written an episode of Cheers with Coach and Woody in it! In the end I had to give him back his fifty bucks and tell him to watch the show before trying to make jokes about it.

Lou didn't seem to take it in. For all I know he's a genius and we'll all be watching his web series next year.

Still needed the fifty, so texted the thin doctor to see if he had any odd jobs going. Spent four hours explaining the plot of the Barber of Seville to him. What am I, Wikipedia?

What's Wikipedia?

 

_Monday June 22nd_

The Internet was out to the whole building today. Bunch of fuss about some ones and zeroes. The bald doctor was making some kind of fuss about secure transfer for medical records. They should just do what I used to do and pin test results to the refrigerator door. You'll never forget them there.

Heard the news about James Horner when I got home. Guess that means that the homeless shelter choir's concert this weekend will be a tribute. I'll get my prosthetics out of storage so I can do a convincing Celine.

 

_Tuesday June 23rd_

They found the little girl. Celebrated with a measure of rye before heading to work. Might have overdone it, apparently I challenged Morgan to a knife fight on the basketball court, and I don't want to stab Morgan. I like Morgan.

The thin doctor asked if I'd considered starting to go to meetings. I told him I was treasurer of my local alien abductees group and we met once a month. He said that wasn't the kind of meeting he was talking about.

Ain't no point in me going to that kind of meeting, I've been banned from most of them. AA, Narcotics Anonymous, Gambler's Anonymous, Adult Children Of Itinerant Circus Folk, none of them want to see Beverly Something walk through their door.

 

_Wednesday June 24th_

The pregnant doctor was in a fuss today. She'd got a letter from her boyfriend and she didn't like anything it said.

If this is the same boyfriend she had last time she was freaking out, she's handling it all wrong. A lot of young women think that love is like a cookie cutter. You press the shape of the ideal man into whichever schlub you're with, trim off the parts you don't like, and fill in whatever gaps are left with friends or hobbies or sometimes other guys.

That's not what love is, and this is coming from someone who has been married four times. Actually five, although the third one didn't count. It was a Boston marriage, only with a guy. And sex. Anyway, love isn't about finding the perfect person and changing them. Love is about finding what's important to you, then finding the person who matches.

Where a lot of girls go wrong is thinking love is enough. Trust me, it's not, or me and Regis Philbin would have lasted a lot longer. You have to have a shared concept of what your relationship is, and that concept has got to be more important to you than whatever bits and pieces did or didn't get included.

The pregnant doctor and her little Italian boyfriend want the same things, they've just got different words for it. That's all they need to figure out.

 

_Thursday June 25th_

The mopey lawyer who used to date the pregnant doctor joined me on the roof for a smoke break. He's pulled out this weird metal thing and told me he was a pretty big wheel in the New York vaping community. No idea what he was talking about.

He offered me a hit on his weird smoking pen. It tasted of grape soda and felt like I was getting intimate with a robot.

I left him to it and went back to my plug of chaw. A nicotine habit is one thing, but there's no sense looking like an idiot.

 

_Friday June 26th_

Heard about the Supreme Court when I got to work. Couldn't be happier. I congratulated the thin doctor and asked if he'd set a date and he said “Beverly, for the last time, English and gay are not synonyms”. I left him to his denial. No sense dragging anyone out of the closet before they're ready.

This whole thing makes me wonder if me and Annie would have got hitched if we'd stayed together in the eighties. No sense wondering about the past. She and Susan were happy together and I didn't want to be a photographer's wife anyway.

 

_Saturday June 27th_

Took the ferry over to Staten to see an old friend and set up a pill exchange. The doc gave her adderal for her narcolepsy but it gives her heartburn so bad she can't sleep anyway. My second cousin's got a son who sells them to finals students at NYU. It's hardly retirement money but it'll keep my buddy in commemorative saint plates for the time being.

Ran into her boy Stevie on my way back. Turns out he knows the short doctor and used to date the pregnant doctor! It's a small world.

Not too small, I hope. I still have too many warrants under too many names.

 

_Sunday June 28th_

Friendly backgammon tournament at the thin doctor's house. Lost the first few games but came back strong. Long and the short of it is that I own Doctor Reed's '67 Stingray now. I guess this means I'll have to get a driver's license in this name.

He gave me the stinkeye to end all stinkeyes as I left. Didn't ruffle my feathers, I'm not the one stupid enough to say “let's make this game more interesting” to a veteran of the riverboat casino wars.

 

_Monday June 29th_

The short doctor was back in work today, acting like nothing had happened.

He took the pregnant doctor out for lunch, said he had something to ask her.

Neither of them came back, so either he asked the right thing and got the right answer, or he asked the wrong thing and the pregnant doctor had to take care of the body.

If it's the latter, she should have asked me. This ain't my first rodeo.

 

_Tuesday June 30th_

Business was slow today, so me and Tamara took her cousin Sheena out for what she calls “the full set”. Mani, pedi, eyebrows threaded, eyelash extensions and lip venom. Plus a touch of glamour in the bikini area. I sat the whole thing out: last time I got a pedicure the poor girl got a scratched cornea from one of my nails so these days I don't trust my talons to anyone else.

Still, it was good to go do something with the girls. Sometimes I think this world focuses too much on love and not enough on friendship. It's all about if you've got someone, or if you have the right someone, and some people ain't grown up enough to know that's not the whole of your happiness.

The right someone helps, of course, and sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone to find them. A fried of mine from my tarheel days, back when I worked at the Harley store, moved all the way to Europe to be with some six foot tall Viking looking dude. She always was a little nutjob.

I just figured out it's her birthday today. So here's to you, ya little nutjob. May your Viking bring you happiness, and may you find it with your friends as well.

Walked home after a few drinks. A few blocks from my house a police horse took a dump directly in front of me.

I think the trouble may be starting again...


End file.
